Medieval Rain

by J. D. Sonne

  So Rane did. Turning behind her and saying softly, “Let’s go!” she walked purposefully toward the door, its girth bespeaking the size of the passageway below it as it yawned over on its side, the iron pull dangling beneath it. Rane was sure that her mother would step over to the door after they had all made their way into the shaft and close it behind them. It seemed rather dangerous to leap into secret passageway on Titled Larad’s estate, but they were fully committed now, all of the prisoners making their unremarkable way across the sands of the arena.

  As Rane came upon the square hole in the sand and looked down, she marveled that a set of concrete stairs led into darkness. Then she saw an unlit torch on the top step with a striking flint next to it, a testament to her mother’s uncanny preparation. She grabbed the torch and descended a few feet and began work on lighting the torch, sometimes a rather sketchy prospect with a temperamental flint. She looked up and watched as all of them started down the steps.

  “Keep going!” She whispered. “Just give everyone enough space to get down. I’ll get this damn thing lit as soon as I can!”

  “Here!” Saruah said, grabbing the torch. “Let me! I saw your mother come toward us, probably to close the door behind us. You need to say goodbye to her.”

  Obediently relinquishing the torch, Rane thanked Saruah and waited for her mother.

  Feeling someone beside her, she turned and expected to see Landman. But no, it was her brother Chuan. Together they perched on the second step down and waited for their mother. Tollichet suddenly was over them, having hefted the heavy door up. Determination filled her face as she strove with the door to set it down easily, with as little noise as possible. In fact, her expression seemed so far away that Rane was afraid that the door would drop without her mother even having noticed them. But, at almost the very last pour, her mother stopped and caught her eye, then her gaze darted over to Chuan who was crouching eagerly like a puppy waiting to be picked up. A strange look came over Tollichet’s face, tender and anguished and yearning, all at the same time. Rane heard Chuan burst with a loud sob as Tollichet lowered the door, her eyes seeking theirs for the very last time.

  But then, Tollichet cried out, and the door dropped, its heavy wood causing an ear-banging reverberation down the stairway. Rane and Chuan crouched and looked at each other. They heard her cries mingled with rough voices even through the heavy door. Rane barely was aware of grabbing Chuan’s wrist and wrenching it as she dragged him down the stairs behind the others. The torchlight flickered before them, their own bizarre shadows chasing them as they ran through the unfamiliar passageway looming ahead. She let go of Chuan’s wrist and grabbed his hand instead as he was still straining away from her with the obvious notion of returning to help their mother. She would have stopped and reprimanded him for his unwarriorlike bawling, but found she was unable to speak as she was bawling even louder than he.

  Then after a mere wisp of passing time, Rane felt the cool air of forest in her face. They were out beyond the huge hedge, but south of it this time where before they had been east before their approach of the cube. Saruah turned the torch upside down and doused it in a well nearby, and Rane turned around, her grief barely allowing curiosity about the passageway. Pausing to inspect the exit, through her tears she saw that it was a ramp that gradually emerged onto the outer grounds of Titled Larad’s estate. But, Saruah had taken charge because Rane was doddering about now clutching both hands of Chuan, the two of them sobbing at the thought that their mother had likely given her life for them just pours before.

  “We have to go!” Saruah whispered. “I’m sorry Rane. Chuan. Follow us!” Then Saruah beckoning the others out to the sluice gate where they had entered, the refugees made their harrowing way across the rushing water, swinging like simians as before until all were outside the boundaries of Titled Larad’s estate.

  “No injuries?” Saruah asked. “Then let’s go! Scout, you help Chuan. Landman, grab Rane. They are going to need help. We will go straight west—we need to stay clear of as many estates as possible and we only have to cross Titled Nooro’s estate before we are in the wild. Hurry! I can assure you that a posse is on its way. They will be able to read our tracks until we get to the waterrock out west, so we need to get beyond the grasses before they overtake us!”

  Rane heard words, but could not decipher any meaning from them. She was slightly aware of someone dragging her along, but was not aware of his identity, nor did she care. She only felt the slushing and slashing of the unyielding grass that seemed to tear at her legs, its blades slowing her feet. Why were they moving so quickly? She wanted to rest. Everyone was so agitated. Why? And, Saruah was being so bossy. Strange. But, she allowed herself to be led because it didn’t occur to her to resist. In fact, it was a miracle from the Watergods that she was even able to walk, and because movement seemed important to everybody, Rane concentrated on that, and that only.

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Her mind did not come back to her until they had traveled a furlong on the blessed rock. Their slog through the torturous grass was now just an irritating memory and they found the going rather easy on the beautiful slick surface, eddies carved into its medium by a huge artistic hand. In fact, these carvings of erosion past inspired legends of ancient giants and Rane’s mind flicked over a memory of a storyteller, a gifted old female who had visited their lodge when Rane was very young. The recollection caused a new gush of tears from the wrenching nostalgia that invaded her whole body. Her mother had been taken. Her mother was probably dead.

  Landman took her by the shoulders at the new bout of water and shook her. “Rane!” Then tenderly embracing her, he said, “My brave Lead, you must get control of yourself. I am having to pull you along—look, how far the others are ahead of us! If we do not move more quickly, we will suffer the same fate as your mother, and I know she would not want that! Rane!” Landman stopped,. grasped her shoulders once again, and peered into her face. “She gave her life for us! We must not squander her gift!”

  Something about the look in Landman’s face finally made Rane understand. Was it the resolve there? Or was it the love? In any case she straightened, wiped the tears from her cheeks with her sleeve and powered ahead with the help of Landman’s steady grip. Together they ran to catch up with the rest of the party, their numbers impossibly small against the black vault of the night sky, the expanse of the unyielding stone terrain and the magnitude of their escape.

  The End